


If the World Was Ending

by crissgrons



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:35:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23297125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crissgrons/pseuds/crissgrons
Summary: The trials and tribulations of a quarantined Kurt and Blaine.
Relationships: Blaine Anderson/Kurt Hummel, Rachel Berry/Jesse St. James
Comments: 14
Kudos: 83





	If the World Was Ending

**Author's Note:**

> So! This is my very first fic/one-shot despite me being in this fandom since the dawn of time, but I'm currently in self-isolation and have nothing else to do. The title credited to my lovely friend Alexia :)
> 
> SIDE NOTE: I'm British, so certain words and spellings may mirror that. Apologies in advance oops
> 
> TW for talk of depression.

_We hope that the citizens of New York understand that the following decisions have not been taken lightly, but we are in the frame of mind to believe they are completely necessary and need to be adhered to._

"Come on, come on, get to the point," Kurt is all but pressed up against the TV at this point, anxiously awaiting the news he knows is coming but doesn't want to accept just yet. The theatre's closed just under two weeks ago, and whilst the right decision was ultimately made, it didn't make Kurt's heart break any easier. There was only so much he could do with the 'Hummelbrag," brand at home, so he and Blaine had now resorted to wandering around the park at night when it was virtually empty just so they could get out for a while.

Now it looks like they can't even do that.

_From midnight tonight, we are implementing a formal lock-down upon the state of New York._

There it is. Kurt flopped backwards from the TV screen and sighed.

_Only one person per household may leave for essentials, such as groceries and medical supplies. Key workers, such as medical and retail staff, must carry their I.D's with them at all times, and schools may remain open only for the children of those key workers. Anyone caught disobeying these rules may be fined. More information can be found-_

It was at that moment that Blaine came stumbling through the door, three bags packed full of groceries in each arm, mumbling and cursing under his breath as he battled to close the front door.

"Selfish, good-for-nothing, ignorant pigs with their panic-buying and their... shoving and their 'I saw that toilet paper first that's MY toilet paper.' I'm sorry _Karen_ , but you can't _claim_ toilet paper it's there for _everyone_ , write your freaking name on it next time you... cow."

Blaine's monologue took him from the front door to the kitchen, wrestling with the bags until he finally dropped them onto the island and let out a loud sigh. Kurt followed and stood silently in the doorway, a sombre look etched across his face. Exasperated, Blaine took a seat at the island and gestured towards his husband, oblivious to the current tone of his household.

"You should've been there Kurt, you could've handled it better than me. This psychotic witch of a woman basically screamed in my face for "panic-buying" even though we _needed_ these groceries but she wasn't listening because, you know, she was screaming the whole store down, and I-"

"We're in lock-down."

Kurt didn't want to interrupt a clearly animated Blaine mid-vent, but when Blaine tells a story, he _tells_ a story, and Kurt needs him to listen right now. He needs to him to listen to the millions of things that have been racing around his brain in the last minute, because if he doesn't he _will_ cry. And if Kurt cries, Blaine cries, and that's a whole other issue.

Blaine finally catches on to Kurt's facial expression and tone, and quickly crosses the short distance between them and grabs his hands tightly in his own.

"Are you okay? It's not like we didn't see this coming, with the theatres closing and everything."

"I know," Kurt sighs, anxious eyes locked firmly on the ground. "But now its official and it just goes to show how serious it is, and I keep thinking about Rachel and our baby and, oh god, what if she gets it and we can't even go visit her and-"

"Hey, hey," Blaine pulls a now shaking Kurt tightly against him and squeezes, one arm around his middle and the other softly stroking his hair. Kurt tucks his head into where Blaine's neck meets his shoulder and breathes him in, his presence already making his heartbeat slow and his tenseness ease. It's been this way between them for years, one knowing exactly what the other wants, _needs,_ in order to stay calm and collected. 

They stay like that for a few moments longer, before Kurt inevitably breaks the silence, still clinging to the back of Blaine's coat. "I better call my Dad, let him know what's happening. And Rachel. I swear to God Blaine, if she leaves the house for even a second just so she can buy those Meyer lemons in Queens-"

"Would you relax, please?" Feeling the way Kurt's anxiety tries to make him wriggle out of Blaine's grasp, he holds him closer, tighter. "You don't give her enough credit, she's not _that_ self-absorbed. I'm pretty sure she can live without the lemons."

"I think you give her too much credit."

Blaine chuckles at that, and release Kurt from his embrace. His hands come up to caress Kurt's face gently, making him look into his eyes. "Everything will be just fine. We can call Rachel and your Dad, maybe even get started on decorating the nursery since we've got nothing else to do. How does that sound?"

Kurt grabs the hands holding his face and smiles fondly. "Perfect." 

He smiles into the kiss that Blaine plants on his lips, the smoothest, softest of touches that after 9 years can still steal the breath away from his lungs. 

"Now," Kurt smirks when they part. "Tell me about this encounter at the store."

* * *

 **Lock-down: Day** **one**

"Ugh! Blaine this is _so_ frustrating," Kurt groans, glaring at the offensive paint samples on the wall. "None of these are right. None of them, and it's not like we can just stroll down to the hardware store and buy some more." They're both stood in the empty soon-to-be nursery, attempting to achieve the hardest part of decorating; getting started.

"Kurt, even if we could, none of those would be right either." Blaine places his coffee mug on the floor and walks towards his husband, wrapping his arms securely around his middle, his head perched on his shoulder. "I like the yellow. What's wrong with the yellow?"

Kurt grabs the hands locked around his stomach and sighs. "It's too bright. When it's summer she might not sleep as well."

"Okay. What about the beige? That's pretty neutral."

Kurt scoffs. "Blaine, this room will belong to the daughter of Kurt Hummel and Blaine Anderson. She's not having boring beige walls. I'm questioning what possessed me to pick it as an option in the first place. How about orange?"

"Come on Kurt, orange? We'll have to wear sunglasses every time we walk into her room."

"Then what the hell do we do?!"

"Okay look," Blaine leaves his post from behind Kurt's back and picks the paint sample cards from the floor. "No matter what we choose, we're going to come up with a million reasons as to why it's the wrong colour. So..."

He shuffles the cards face down and fans them out in front of Kurt in anticipation. "Pick one. Whichever it is, that's what colour her room will be."

Kurt eyes him wearily, then glances down at the cards in front of him. Hesitantly, he picks a card and flips it over for them both to see.

"Baby blue," they say in unison. Blaine glances up to gauge Kurt's reaction, half expecting him to put the card back and pick again. Instead, he just nods slowly, with a pensive look on his face.

"Okay, 'baby blue,' that works." Blaine ensures Kurt isn't looking before glancing up and mouthing 'thank God' to the sky. Kurt bends down and picks the chosen paint can from the floor to examine it. "The walls look pretty cute in the picture here," he mumbles, gesturing to the can. "Plus, a baby girl having blue walls completely eradicates gender norms. She's a liberal baby."

"Exactly," Blaine laughs. The memory of Kurt's face when Rachel's test came back positive 5 months ago is still burned so vividly in Blaine's mind. The tears, the shock, the unadulterated joy of knowing they get to experience something they thought they'd never have a few years ago. From the emotionally-charged phone call with Burt and Carole, to Rachel saying "I'm having Quinn Fabray's baby!" every five minutes, it was hands down the greatest day of Blaine's life, aside from their wedding day.

There is no one he'd rather be experiencing this with than Kurt. There's no one he'd rather be quarantined with than Kurt. There's no one else on this currently plagued Earth that he would rather come home to, week in, week out, and talk about his day to other than Kurt. With every day that passes, he doesn't think it's possible to be more in love with him than he is in that given moment, but then tomorrow comes, and proves him wrong.

"Right!" Kurt puts the can down and claps his hands together, shaking Blaine from his reverie. "Break time!"

"Kurt, we only chose the colour. We still have to paint and pick furniture."

Kurt groans and moves to wrap his arms around Blaine's shoulders. "Yes, but look how _exhausting_ it was just choosing a colour. I need a break."

Blaine smiles and kisses away Kurt's pout. "Okay, and what do you want to do during this break?" Blaine smirks as he runs his hands down Kurt's back, pulling him flush against him. Kurt shoots him a knowing look and giggles, locking the arms around his neck even tighter.

"Hmm, I don't know," Kurt closes the hairs-width of distance between them and kisses him again, breathing into it and letting Blaine hold him upright. Blaine moves his lips to the corner of Kurt's mouth, his cheek, before pressing deep, wet kisses up and down the column of his neck. "Surprise me."

Blaine makes his way back to Kurt's mouth, open and wanting, his wandering hands finding their place on Kurt's ass and grabbing tightly, eliciting a small moan from somewhere deep in Kurt's throat. As he makes to grab Blaine's hand and drag him to their bedroom (because this is their daughter's room. This is NOT happening in their daughters room), Kurt's phone vibrates in his front pocket, making the pair of them groan. And not in the way they should be right now.

"How much are we betting that this is my Dad?" Kurt sighs.

"I'm not betting anything. I _know_ that's your dad."

* * *

**Lock-down: day five**

"Hey you two!" Kurt smiles in his phone where Rachel and Jesse are looking back at him, paint smeared on his cheeks. "We just finished decorating the baby's bedroom, look!" He switches the camera from selfie mode and slowly pans around the newly painted room.

It's still sans-furniture, but the soft blue walls are neatly painted and streak-free, with little duck and star stickers scattered tastefully along one of the walls, where they intend to place their daughters crib. They've removed the paint-stained protective cloth from the floor to reveal the soft contrast of the cream white carpet from the walls. The camera lands on Blaine, and he waves animatedly. 

"Aw, blue!" Rachel coos. "I love blue, and the little duckies on the wall! Oh Kurt, she's gonna love it." Kurt turns the camera back to face him and smiles, Blaine now standing next to him. 

"Yeah, they were Blaine's idea, the big kid that he is," Kurt jokes, smiling at his husband.

"I can't believe it's taken you five days," Jesse laughs. "You're on lock-down, it's not like you've had much else to do."

"Yeah well, I had a few details to iron out concerning the show and Kurt's been completing orders for Hummelbrag, plus he's easily distracted," Blaine smirks and throws Kurt a knowing look, remembering day three of their decorating escapades, where paint ended up in some very unfortunate places. Kurt just elbows him in the side. "Plus, I've had a ton of emails to respond to regarding the Tony's, and-"

Rachel lets out an almighty gasp and startles all three men, causing Kurt to launch his phone into the air, barely catching it on its descent.

"What is it Rach? Is it the baby?!" Kurt panics as he looks at the grainy image on his phone, trying to decipher what her facial expression means. She has her hand clamped on her mouth, Jesse looking back at her expectantly. She lowers her hand quickly and grabs her husband hand, her face agog.

"The Tony's! My Tony! _Our_ Tony's."

Kurt lets out a frustrated groan as Blaine can't help but laugh. How was that _not_ their first guess as to why she looked so panicked?

"Really, Rachel? You scared the shit out of us!"

"I'm so sorry you guys but, oh my God! I never thought about the Tony's! We're nominated. Jesse what are we gonna do?"

"Rachel relax okay," Blaine speaks soothingly into Kurt's phone. "From what I gather, they're still going ahead but they might have to be postponed. You wont lose your nomination, that won't change." Rachel sighs with relief at that, her right hand moving down to caress her swelled stomach that's just peeking into view.

"Sorry for the stress baby," she mumbles to her belly, grabbing Jesse hand tighter, before looking back at the laptop screen. "And I'm sorry, Daddies! The baby has been fine, no change at all. Everything's sweet."

Kurt and Blaine beam back her, their eyes not moving from her hand that's resting on her stomach because _that's their little girl in there._

"Ooh! That reminds me," Rachel turns to Jesse, bouncing slightly on the couch. "I need some more of those Meyer lemons from that little shop in Queens."

Kurt drops the phone quickly to his side as he turns to glare at Blaine, who's too busy trying his absolute best to hide the laugh that's ready to burst out of him.

* * *

**Lock-down: day seven**

"Dad, would you relax please? They can't just stop your income coming in, they can't do that," Kurt has his dad on loud speaker as he helps Blaine prepare dinner in the kitchen. Blaine mouths a 'thank you' as his husband hands him the freshly cut chicken, which he adds to his latest culinary adventure. 

"I know but I'm self employed Kurt, and Carole's income isn't enough to live on. I have wages to pay, a mortgage, it's not like I can repair someone's car in the living room." Ohio aren't in formal lock-down just yet, but with Burt's heart condition, he decided to shut up early. And by 'decided,' he means Carole and Kurt basically forced him to stay home, whether he liked it or not.

"Don't worry Burt, I'm sure there's something online which could help you out, and you work for congress, right? Can't something be done there?" Blaine asks. Burt sighs down the phone.

"I wish," he huffs. "I can work on that from home, but my shop is my shop, y'know? It doesn't feel right not being there." Kurt frowns as he chops the vegetables for frying, shaking his head at his phone, as if his father could see him.

"I'm sorry dad," he says sincerely. "But you need to put yourself first, it's for-"

"For the best, I know," Burt finishes for him. "Anyway, enough about me, how are you guy's doing? Glad to hear you haven't killed each other yet."

"Nah, it's only been a week, there's still time," Blaine chances a smirk in Kurt's direction, only to be met with a swift whack from a nearby spatula. "Some of the baby's furniture came today, and it took us both all but 5 seconds to decide that assembling them was tomorrow's problem."

Burt chuckles down the phone. "So you finally got started huh?"

"Mhm!" Kurt gets out around the mouthful of sauce he was tasting. "Yep! The room is painted and ready. We're gonna tackle the crib tomorrow, a few more items are arriving soon. It's all suddenly very real."

Blaine smiles at that, and opens his right arm for Kurt to cosy into his side, his left hand occupied with the cooking. No matter how many times they're reminded that they're going to be dad's, it still never seems real. To think, after everything they've overcome, separately and together, _this_ is their reward. A child, a family of their own. It was all worth it.

"I can't believe I'm gonna be a grandpa in, what, four months?" Kurt and Blaine hum at Burt's words, embracing each other tighter. 

"Hopefully this is all over by then, that way we actually get to be there, and she wont be born in Rachel Berry's bathtub," Blaine jokes, releasing Kurt so he can plate up their dinner. Burt and Blaine exchange more pleasantries and discuss baby rearing tips as Kurt sets the table, before saying their goodbye's. A few mouthful's into their meal, Blaine eyes Kurt suspiciously.

"You turned weirdly silent at the end of that call, something wrong?" He asks. Kurt looks up from his plate, his expression unreadable.

"It's nothing, it's just..." He takes in a deep breath, and puts down his fork.

"I don't want my baby to be born in Rachel Berry's bathtub."

* * *

**Lock-down: day eleven**

_And all I want is to touch you again_

_To touch your lips, it'll be just us_

_I cannot wait for this madness to end_

_I can't wait to be rid of this... virus_

Blaine nods to himself from his place at the piano, standing and leaning forwards so he can write down the lyrics and chords. Kurt just stares at him from his seat on the couch, the copy of Vogue open yet unread in his lap.

"Blaine?"

"Hm?" Blaine makes no effort to turn, engrossed in his work, a soft melody filling the room once again. Kurt giggles to himself.

"Uh, are you writing a musical about the pandemic we're all suffering through right now?" Blaine turns around to face him and smiles widely, half-written music sheet in hand.

"Yeah! It's about two lovers from opposite ends of the country who can't see each other because of the lock-down. She keeps saying she can't video call because apparently her internet is down, so he think she's just blowing him off, but really, and here's the big plot twist... she's pregnant! And she wants to keep it as a surprise for when it's over!" Blaine genuinely has a look on his face that shows he thinks he's the next Sondheim, and Kurt smiles fondly back at him.

For the past few days, Blaine hasn't seemed like himself. From being stuck inside all day to spending hours on end assembling their daughter's furniture, he's been awfully distant and just... off. And it warms Kurt's heart to see him so animated again, the love and passion for his work becoming evident in his eyes once more. Even if it is about quarantine. 

"Sounds great sweetie," Kurt smiles. "Book me in for front row on opening night."

Blaine laughs and turns back to his masterpiece, scribbling down notes with more fervour than before. After a few minutes, the scribbling stops, and Blaine turns back around to face Kurt.

"Can you think of anything the rhymes with 'cough'?"

* * *

**Lock-down: day thirteen**

"21...22...23...24..."

Kurt pants and presses on through his daily workout, which he's been neglecting in favour of decorating the baby's room. Blaine decided after 0.1 seconds of deliberation that he would not be joining, and instead watches from the couch, the TV talking to itself in the background.

"Have I ever told you that you have an amazing ass?"

Kurt carries on with his push-ups, a small laugh escaping him. "Yes. And have I ever told you that you aren't allowed to ogle me during workouts unless you join in?"

Blaine makes a slight humming sound before getting up from the couch. "Alright, I'll join."

Before Kurt can even remember his push-up count, Blaine crouches down next to him and rolls on the floor until he's flat on his back, and then proceeds to slide himself under Kurt's body until he's face to face below him, smiling widely. Kurt looks down in fond astonishment.

"Graceful," he mocks. Blaine laughs back sarcastically.

"You said you wanted me to join in, so I'm joining in. I'll lay here, and every time you press down, you have to kiss me."

Kurt laughs and shakes his head. "How is that joining in?"

"I'm providing motivation!"

Kurt eyes him wearily, a small smirk on his face, before huffing out a breath and lowering himself down.

"Fine," he whispers, pecking Blaine's lips and rising back up. He does this for 5 more press-ups, giving Blaine the swiftest of kisses and rising back up, before Blaine decides to deepen them. Kurt giggles into them, moving from his hands to his forearms in order to run his fingers into Blaine's hair. On his tenth push-up, Blaine mumbles against his lips, as seductively as possible.

"Wanna fuck?"

Kurt collapses onto his husbands chest in a fit of hysterics, knocking the air from Blaine's lungs as he lays trapped underneath him. Kurt places his knees on each side of Blaine's hips and rises up, laughter still bubbling out of him.

"What did you just say to me, pig?!"

A still-winded Blaine looks up at him incredulously. "What? I only asked a question."

"Oh you're so romantic."

"Come on Kurt, it's not like we have anything else to do," Blaine licks his lips and places his hands on Kurt hips, rubbing tiny circles with his thumbs. "Plus, this is a workout I can get on board with." 

Kurt's lips creep up into a seductive smirk as he lowers himself gently onto Blaine's lap.

"So let me get this straight; the only reason you want to have a nooner is because there's 'nothing else to do'?" Kurt slowly grinds his hips down onto Blaine's half-interested cock, causing him to drop his head backwards with a choked out moan. 

"No," he replies, hands now gripping Kurt's rolling hips tighter. "Well...yeah, but also you looked- _ah_ \- particularly good doing your workout, and if that didn't turn me on I'm pretty sure you'd be even more insulted."

"Hmm, true," Kurt lowers himself again until his mouth is inches away from Blaine, who takes advantage of the change in position and shoves his hands into the back of Kurt's yoga pants and _grabs,_ pulling him down harder against him. The pair moan in unison, eyes blown, their breathing becoming more laboured by the second. 

"So," Kurt murmurs, tongue darting out to trace Blaine's upper lip, loving the way he always, _always,_ chases after him. "Want to show me how a real workout is done?"

"Yes please," Blaine breathes out before attaching Kurt's mouth to his own, open and waiting, his hands coming to frame Kurt's face, legs finding the familiar position around his waist and locking tightly.

 _Yep,_ Blaine thinks, as Kurt enters him hard and fast on their living room floor. _Turns out I love working out._

* * *

**Lock down: day fifteen**

"Yes! You landed on Mayfair!" Blaine gloats in a sing-song voice, studying his property card. "That'll be $2000 please."

"Uh, Blaine? Look again, I landed on 'super tax,' I pay the bank $100."

Blaine looks up at the Monopoly board to see Kurt's silver dog token standing on the 'super tax' square, right next to his property with four hotels.

"What? Kurt, you definitely rolled a five, I just saw you. Where's the dice?"

"They're in my hand, and no I didn't, I rolled a six."

"Oh, how convenient that you picked the dice up so we couldn't see."

Kurt looks back at him, mouth agape in offence. "Excuse me, are you calling me a cheater?"

"Well, that depends. Did you just totally roll a five and then claim to roll a six? If so then yes, you are in fact a cheater."

"Blaine, I rolled a _six._ Not a _five_ or a _seven_ , a SIX."

"Oh come on, isn't it enough that I let you be the dog and I settled for the shoe. I didn't even want to be the shoe, I'm _never_ the dog!"

"Don't try and change the subject Blaine, you've just accused me of cheating and that is _so_ unfair."

"It's not my fault you're such a sore loser."

Kurt stops and stares angrily at Blaine across the table, all but ready to flip the board into the air. After a few seconds, he stands abruptly, grabbing all of his money and dumping it at Blaine's side of the board.

"Fine, here you go, you capitalist thief, you've bankrupted me. Happy?" And with that, he storms out of the dining room and stomps upstairs, slamming their bedroom door shut behind them. Blaine sighs and pushes the offensive game away from him.

"I wanted to play Jenga, but nooooo," he mumbles to himself, arms crossed in defiance.

* * *

**Lock down: day twenty**

Kurt wakes with a start in the darkness and sighs groggily, stretching his arm over to light up the bedside alarm clock.

_3:23 am._

He closes his eyes tightly and groans, turning to his right hand side and pulling the covers up to his chin. He peeks one eye open to check on his husband's sleeping form, but the space where Blaine would usually be, snoring softly, is empty. Kurt sits up in confusion.

"Blaine?" He calls out, voice still rough from sleep. When he doesn't receive an answer, he clambers out of bed, puts on his slippers and dressing gown, and walks downstairs. He spends a good few minutes calling out Blaine's name and checking the rooms, but finds him nowhere. With worry quickly setting in, Kurt turns to leave the kitchen and retrieve his phone, but stops in his tracks as he looks out of the window.

Blaine is sat with his back to him in the garden, seemingly staring at the dark nothingness that spans across their lawn. Kurt walks to the door and opens it, looking over in confusion.

"Blaine?" He calls again, but Blaine maintains his position as if he hadn't even heard him. _Is he sleeping-walking?_ Kurt thinks as he walks towards him, wrapping his dressing gown tighter around him to protect from the chill in the air. He makes his way over to stand next to the bench Blaine is sitting on, still not receiving even a glance from his motionless form.

"Hey," Kurt says softly. Blaine startles out of his trance then, turning to look at his husband hovering tentatively next to him. He's eyes seem sad, expressionless.

"Hey. Sorry, couldn't sleep." He makes room on the bench for Kurt to join him, still keeping his body faced forwards as Kurt sits and studies him.

They're silent for a few minutes, nothing but the quiet hum of a usually bustling New York City at nighttime. Kurt is eventually the one to break it.

"Talk to me."

Blaine keeps staring blankly ahead, untouched cup of tea in his shaky hands. He takes a deep breath in, lowering his gaze to the ground.

"For a few days," he exhales, collects himself. "For a few days, I haven't felt...right. I've felt sort of... foggy. And distant. Exhausted."

Kurt knows what this is. He just needs to Blaine to say it. To uncork the bottle.

"I think I'm having another depressive episode," Blaine finally turns to face his husband, the tears in his eyes shining in the moonlight. "And it's taken me a few days to fully realise that that's what it was, because I haven't had one in so long. I was handling it."

Blaine takes a shaky breath in, glancing down has Kurt takes the tea out of his hands and replaces it with his grasp.

"I've felt so... so _useless_ sat in this house. Working from home, video calling people, it's just not the same as actually _being_ there, in their presence. Tonight, I just couldn't sleep, and I laid there trying to figure out why I was so tired and downcast. Then it hit me.

"Suddenly I couldn't breathe, and all the memories that I'd repressed for _years,_ memories of a time when I felt so horrible and weak, just came flooding back and I don't want to go back there, I don't want to be him again, Kurt. And I'm so sorry I didn't tell you. I'm _so-_ "

"Hey, look at me," Kurt is freely crying now, hot tears streaming down his cool cheeks as he caresses Blaine's face in his hands. Blaine obeys immediately, allowing Kurt's thumbs to wipe the tears away from his beautiful, perfect face.

"Don't you ever, _ever_ apologise. I've noticed something was off, but I just assumed it was because of the lock-down, and for that I'm sorry."

"If I'm not allowed to apologise, then neither are you," Blaine tries to joke, but fails to laugh. Kurt just smiles, thumbs still stroking his husband's cheeks.

"You have been doing so well at managing your depression Blaine, and I'm so proud of you. But you're allowed to trip up. We're living in such an uncertain, stressful time right now, I think everyone is feeling a little down. But you have a history of depression, Blaine. A relapse is not a sign of weakness. It's a sign of living, despite everything you've been through."

Kurt moves his hands down to grasp at Blaine's, finding his wedding ring and twisting it.

"We can move forward at your own pace, okay? We can call your doctor, order some more medication. You can go back to therapy, whatever you want. But remember that whatever you decide, you will never, _ever_ , be on your own. I am yours. Always."

Blaine lets out the sob he's been holding in, as he raises their clasped hands to his lips and kisses them, lips lingering on Kurt's knuckles for a few moments. He lowers them back to his lap and looks back up into Kurt's eyes, the unmistakable love and admiration that Blaine has possessed for Kurt for almost a decade shining through his tears.

"I love you so much," he whispers. Kurt smiles back.

"I love you so much more," he replies. Blaine scoots forwards and finds himself locked in Kurt's strong embrace, head tucked into Kurt's neck, the perfect position for Kurt to places small, soft kisses onto his forehead. They stay like that for a few more minutes, huddled together in the darkness of their backyard. Blaine yawns as he tucks himself further into Kurt's side, a reminder that it still is, in fact, almost 4 in the morning.

"Blaine?" Kurt whispers.

"Hm?"

"I did roll a five." 

Blaine's giggle is enough to warm Kurt through to his toes in the chilly night air, a sure sign that, with the right support and laughter, Blaine is going to be just fine. They both stand at the same time, Kurt grabbing Blaine by the hand and leading him back towards their house.

_Home._


End file.
